Absolution
by Kylenne
Summary: It was a single question, maddening in its deceptive simplicity: Can sin be forgiven? Cloud may have found the answer, but Vincent remains unsure. [Cloud x Vincent, major AC spoilers.]
1. Strange Lunchfellows

Cloud sped down the country road, the warm summer wind whipping through his spiky blond hair as he rode Fenrir toward the dusty red canyon. It was late in the afternoon, and the mercenary-turned-delivery man was on his way to Cosmo Canyon to deliver a package to the Shildra Inn. It was good to be on the road, he thought to himself, without the fate of the Planet hanging in the balance—for once. His blades rested in their usual chrome scabbards along the side interior of his bike, of course, but he'd had little need of them lately. Cloud idly wondered when he should visit the weapon master south of Gongaga, to get them repaired. They'd taken quite a beating a few weeks ago, after all. So did he, for that matter, he thought with a slight chuckle as the scar above his left eye began to itch.

It'd all happened so quickly, far faster than Cloud had time to process, even with his penchant for brooding. He simply hadn't had time to think about everything that had transpired, and a part of him was afraid of it, of what it might mean. Feelings Cloud had locked away, that he thought he'd buried once and for all, came rushing to the surface. The deepest, darkest desire of his heart had come to pass, and it was taken from him before he could begin to grasp it:

The man he had once loved more than anything had come back to him, for a fleeting moment, and then he was gone.

Cloud could finally admit to himself that there was a part of him, deep inside his soul, that still ached for Sephiroth, still desired him in spite of the death and destruction he left in his wake. That part of Cloud would still love him, despite the pain and despair he caused him, and always would. He had learned to accept it, and was no longer ashamed or guilty about it. Aerith understood. She always did, even when Cloud didn't seem to understand himself. It was why there was nothing to forgive, as far as she was concerned, though it took Cloud a little thinking to see why that was. He chuckled to himself again. Even now, she was two steps ahead of him.

It was just before sundown when Cloud pulled his motorcycle into a tight curve, and rode up a steep incline, then slowed to a halt at the gates of Cosmo Canyon. He pulled his goggles off and sat up, looking high up at the buildings carved into the cliffside. The village looked the same as he remembered it, quiet and peaceful, the red dust of the canyon seemingly clinging to every surface in sight.

"Hullo, Cloud!"

Cloud glanced to the side, and saw Nanaki bounding down the stairs, his glowing tail swishing behind him. Cloud smiled, and nodded in greeting.

"Hi Nanaki. How's it going?"

"Fine, actually. I was just off for my evening exercises," his old friend replied. "What brings you to Cosmo Canyon today? A delivery?"

Cloud nodded.

"Yeah, we got a commission from the jeweler around the corner from the phone shop. I'm supposed to bring a package to the Shildra Inn."

"Ahh. It must be for Martiya."

"Martiya?"

"The innkeeper's daughter. She and Taron from the materia shop are getting married in a couple of weeks, and she's been out of her mind. I stopped by to get some lunch the other day, and had to listen to her crying about how she couldn't fit into her mother's wedding dress. She's driving everyone crazy," Nanaki said with a sigh. He suddenly gave Cloud an apologetic look. "Small town, you know how it is."

"I know what you mean," Cloud chuckled. "I grew up in one too."

"I'll never understand girls. Anyway, the inn's across from the Cosmo Candle," Nanaki said, pointing his muzzle toward the huge bonfire roaring in the distance.

"Thanks, I'd forgotten," Cloud replied. Nanaki nodded, and turned toward the slope leading down into the canyon proper.

"I'm sorry I can't stay, but I need to go finish patrolling."

"It's all right. It was good seeing you again," Cloud said with a wave. Nanaki grinned, and ran off into the distance.

Cloud rode over toward the enormous bonfire known as the Cosmo Candle, pulling around it. He stopped and dismounted in front of a small building carved into the cliff with a green awning hanging out front, and a dusty wooden sign reading "The Shildra" out front. He pushed open the door, and walked inside the inn's common room. A number of people sat chatting at the bar, and most of the long, cafeteria-style tables were occupied with travelers leafing through books while they ate. Cosmo Canyon appeared to be as popular a destination as ever for those studying the cycles of Planetary Life, perhaps even more so after the events of two years ago. It was only natural that people would come here to try and make sense of it all, Cloud thought.

He pulled a small package wrapped in brown paper out of his pocket, and walked up the short flight of stairs to the front desk. A harried looking young woman with dark hair sat behind it, feverishly giving instructions on the phone. With a final string of invectives that would make Cid Highwind blush, she slammed the phone down, and looked up, noticing Cloud for the first time, and looked rather embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologized with a nervous bow. "How can I help you?"

"Strife Delivery Service with a package for…" Cloud started, then looked at the small label on the box, "Martiya Lightfoot?"

"Oh the rings, thank goodness!" she sighed with relief. "Yes, I'm Martiya."

"I just need you to sign the invoice, miss," Cloud said as he handed her a slip of paper. She dutifully signed, and he handed over the box. "Thanks, have a good day."

Cloud walked back downstairs, and took an empty seat at one of the tables. He hadn't eaten anything but half a stale granola energy bar since early that morning, and he was famished. He picked up a small menu and browsed through it, nodding decisively to himself, and then a serving girl came around.

"Let me get the biggest freaking cheeseburger you have, well done, please," Cloud ordered. The girl giggled and nodded.

"Anything to drink?"

"Yeah, a cold beer."

She smiled and walked away, and Cloud reached into his pocket for his phone. He'd long since made up his mind that regardless of when he arrived in town, he was at least spending the night before making the trek back to Edge. He normally didn't venture this far out for deliveries, but there was a nice sum of gil involved, and it was nice to get out of the city once in a while. As he pressed the speed dial, he wondered what he would get Marlene and Denzel from the gift shop.

"Strife Delivery Service, Tifa speaking. How can I help you?" he heard a familiar voice say on the other end.

"Hey, it's me. I just made the drop off. Everything okay on your end?" Cloud asked.

"Yeah, things are fine. Barret came by this morning and took the kids to the park. Marlene's all tuckered out, I just put her to bed. She was really happy to see him," Tifa answered, and the waitress brought him a frosty mug of beer and a napkin.

"I bet she was." Cloud frowned as he took a sip, suddenly remembering the time difference between the continents. "Sorry for calling so late, I forgot."

"Don't worry about it. Was the trip there okay?"

"I had a flat tire near Gongaga, but I fixed it, and other than that it was fine. Did any other jobs come in?"

"Nope, looks like the schedule's clear for the time being."

"Good, I'm a bit tuckered out myself. I'm gonna leave in the morning. Do you need anything?"

"Not that I can think of." Cloud heard her pause. "Oh! When you go through Costa Del Sol could you…"

Tifa's voice faded in Cloud's ears, as the door creaked open and a startled hush fell over the room. He was suddenly taken aback by the tall, shadowy figure who crossed the threshold. Vincent Valentine walked quietly into the common room, and he was the last person Cloud expected to see here. His long, silky black hair was slightly disheveled, and he was rather travel-worn, but he otherwise looked much the same as he did the last time Cloud saw him. He rarely saw much of him in the last two years, as the mysterious ex-Turk seemed to come and go like the wind. Cloud smiled, feeling a genuine sense of delight at seeing his old friend again. Vincent had been on his mind quite a bit lately, ever since he saved his life in the Sleeping Forest. However, Cloud hadn't seen him since the celebration in Aerith's church, when the children were cured of Geostigma, and didn't really get to talk to him in all the excitement.

"Cloud? Are you listening?" the voice on the phone asked a third time.

"Oh, sorry."

"You _must_ be tired if you're spacing out this much. I wanted to ask, when you go to Costa Del Sol, could you please get me a few bottles of that chili sauce? I ran out today and I need some for the buffalo wings, the stuff around here just isn't the right consistency."

Cloud watched Vincent as he walked up to the bar, receiving more than a few nervous stares.

"Sure, chili sauce, got it. Listen, I'll talk to you later. Say goodnight to Denzel for me."

"Okay. Take care, see you when you get home."

Cloud folded up his phone and put it back in his pocket, then waved his hand in the air. "Hey, Vincent!"

Vincent turned around, and gave Cloud a startled look.

"Cloud?" Vincent blinked, and strode over to the table.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," Vincent said wryly. "May I join you?"

"Sure, of course."

Vincent sat down opposite Cloud, with a dramatic flourish of his tattered, crimson cape, and Cloud suppressed a chuckle. Others may have been put off by Vincent's many quirks, but Cloud was amused by them. Besides, sleeping in a coffin for who knows how many years was bound to make anyone a little bit odd.

"So," Cloud began. "What the hell _are_ you doing here, anyway?"

"I was passing through the area, and I needed some supplies," Vincent answered with a shrug. "You?"

"Work. I had a delivery to make, and decided to get some rest and a bite to eat." Cloud tilted his head. "By the way, do you want anything? I'm buying."

"I couldn't—"

"Don't be stubborn. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in days."

"Hmph. Who's stubborn?"

Cloud grinned, and the serving girl brought him a platter with a gigantic cheeseburger and fries. Cloud tore into the burger like it was about to leap off the plate, and Vincent was looking at it with undisguised lust.

"Still sure you don't want anything?" Cloud asked with a smirk, in between monstrous bites.

Vincent calmly looked at the waitress.

"May I have a medium cheeseburger, please? And a beer." The waitress smiled and nodded, then walked off. Vincent turned back to face Cloud. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Vincent's food arrived a short time later, and he and Cloud ate in relative silence. Neither was one for making small talk, and they both had rather pressing things to take care of. They polished off their meals, and sat contented.

"I wonder what kind of dessert they have," Cloud finally mused aloud. Vincent blinked.

"How you can even begin to think about that is beyond me. I feel as though I've eaten an entire cow," he confessed.

"Between the two of us, we probably did," Cloud said with a smile. "I guess I'll pass. I'm pretty tired, anyway."

"As am I."

"You have enough for a room?"

"Cloud," Vincent began firmly, "I will not allow you to spend any more gil on me. I appreciate the gesture, but it's entirely unnecessary."

"You're being stubborn again," Cloud argued. "Besides, I owe you."

"For what?"

"Never mind that," Cloud said, "just come on." He left a number of shiny gold coins on the table, and rose to his feet.

"Suit yourself," Vincent conceded, "but at least allow me to pay for half."

"Alright."

The two walked upstairs to the front desk, and Cloud rented a double room as Vincent stood to the side in silence. Martiya, who was still working the desk, gave the odd-looking pair a strange look, but said nothing and merely smiled as she handed Cloud the key.

Cloud unlocked the door, and wearily took his coat off and unbelted his elaborate black leather scabbard, letting it fall to the floor. He collapsed on one of the two beds, suddenly acutely aware of just how bone weary he was. It was nice lying in a soft bed for once, after having spent the previous evening on a hard pallet in Gongaga.

Cloud turned to his side and propped his head up with his hand, as Vincent shut the door behind him. He watched his friend as he removed his cape, folding the tattered garment neatly and placing it on the other bed. Cloud's eyes unconsciously followed the folds and silver buckles on Vincent's leather bodysuit, and he lowered his eyes in embarrassment.

Vincent took off his holster, placing his newly acquired gun, Cerberus, on the nightstand, and sat down on the other bed.

"Where did you get that, anyway?" Cloud asked curiously.

"Cid gave it to me," Vincent replied quietly as he slipped his feet out of his gold plated boots. "He commissioned it from the gunsmith in Rocket Town, for my birthday last year. It was rather unexpected."

"Tell me about it," Cloud said in amazement. "Wow. He's really mellowed out, hasn't he?"

"Indeed," Vincent agreed. "I suppose it's Shera's influence. Love does rather peculiar things to people."

That it does, Cloud thought to himself. He turned over onto his back, sprawling spread eagle on the bed. He was exhausted, his eyelids heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

"My apologies, but I'm in desperate need of a hot shower," Vincent said.

"Go ahead," Cloud said with a yawn. "I'm about to pass out anyway." Vincent nodded, and walked toward the small bathroom, but stopped before he walked inside.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

Cloud kicked his boots off, and stretched his tired feet.

"I was gonna grab some breakfast and head out first thing in the morning. Where are you headed, anyway?"

"Nowhere in particular, really," Vincent replied with a shrug. "Why?"

"Want to ride with me to Edge? Marlene would probably like to see you."

Vincent blinked, and perhaps it was a trick of the dim light and his own fatigue, but Cloud thought he was blushing.

"I don't see why not."

Cloud was strangely relieved as Vincent shut the bathroom door behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed a little, wondering why in the world he'd invited him along. Company was nice, though he rarely admitted as such, and he liked the strange ex-Turk well enough. That, however, was precisely the problem. Cloud generally didn't like people, and never really had. It made the odd sort of unspoken bond that had developed between the two all the more confusing to him. And what had happened in the forest...

He shut his eyes, and begged sleep to overtake him, not wanting to think about what it all meant.


	2. Simplicity

Lying on the cool loam of the forest floor, he was suddenly enveloped by a soothing warmth. It was above him, all around him, and suddenly below him as he was overtaken by a sensation of weightlessness that made him slightly giddy. It was the most unusual feeling he'd ever experienced, and yet—and yet, it was one of the most wonderful things he'd ever felt.

_It's alright, now. I'm here now, and nothing will harm you._

That still, gentle voice was as warm as the nimbus that surrounded him, and he clung to it, letting it guide him out of the Geostigmatic haze. He'd never felt so safe, so secure.

_I won't lose you._

Cloud awoke with a start, a hand shaking his shoulder firmly, but softly. He rolled over onto his back to see Vincent staring at him, a burnished talon pointing skyward and reflecting the light of the newly risen sun.

"You wanted me to wake you at sunrise," Vincent reminded him quietly. Cloud nodded and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As usual, it appeared that Vincent hadn't slept. In the two years he'd known him, and all the time they'd spent on the road in search of Sephiroth, Cloud had never seen him sleep. He often wondered privately if Vincent was capable of sleep—or if he even needed it anymore, after all those years in the basement.

Cloud rose to his feet and retrieved his sleeveless coat, draped over Fenrir. As he buckled it closed, he couldn't help but feel a little bit envious. After all, if Vincent didn't sleep anymore, it meant he didn't dream anymore. Cloud hated dreams. They made no sense, and only seemed to stir up feelings and memories he'd rather forget.

Case in point: the dream he was awakened from, just then off the side of a lonely road near the Gongagan jungle. It's not that it wasn't a pleasant dream—quite to the contrary—but Cloud didn't see the point of it. Why did his subconscious keep going back to that night in the forest? Why did it keep shoving those feelings in his face? The flying in warmth and comfort and…

It was pointless, Cloud thought, pulling an energy bar from his pouch and taking an irritated bite of lemony granola. He didn't want to deal with it. Things were going fine, for once in his life. For the first time in years, he had a home and a family. He had a purpose, even if it was something as trivial as carrying Package A to Point B. That was simple. Cloud liked simple. It was something that seemed so maddeningly fleeting in his life, and now that he managed to finally catch it, he wasn't letting it go so easily. He didn't need dreams. He didn't _want_ dreams. He'd had enough of them when Aerith died. When Sephiroth died. Dreams only complicated things, no matter how benign they might appear on the surface. Cloud didn't want to go back to that horrible place of doubt and longing and…

Otherworldly eyes stared at him, a question lingering therein. Cloud dug into his pouch and tossed Vincent a bar. Mirth crossed his friend's pale face as he opened the shrink-wrap.

"Sorry," Cloud chuckled a bit sheepishly. Vincent shrugged at him and approached the bike.

"Philosophical brooding over breakfast is a fine enough pastime, but sharing the wealth is simply polite," he chided with a quiet snicker, biting into the bar. Cloud turned away in embarrassment.

"If we push hard we can probably make it to Costa by sundown," Cloud pointedly changed the subject, and wrapped in this thoughts, absently started to toss the empty wrapper. However, before he could, Vincent snatched his wrist in a burst of preternatural speed.

"Every time you litter, a Cosmon cries," Vincent deadpanned. Cloud laughed and pulled away, putting the wrapper in his pocket.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"So I've been told on occasion."

Cloud shook his head and mounted Fenrir. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and grinned.

"Get on the bike, Chief."

Vincent finished his own breakfast and stowed the wrapper in his pocket, then climbed on the back with yet another melodramatic twirl of his cape, this one far less serious than usual. Cloud stifled a second burst of laughter and revved the engine. Gods, he was a dork. Maybe that's why they got along so well. Just as his foot hit the kickstand, he felt Vincent's arm wrap around his waist, and was a bit startled. Well, that was different. It's not as if he were in any danger of falling off, and he hadn't done that the day before.

Cloud felt "simple" slipping through his fingers again, in that feeling of warmth, his heart pounding in his chest as they took off. Those feelings from the forest were stirred up again, but this time he didn't have a threat to focus on, something that would draw out his soldier's sense of detachment. Just from a stupid touch.

A familiar giggle tickled his ears.

_Gosh, didn't you learn _anything _at all?_

Then she was gone, and so were the worries…at least for a little while.

Cloud smiled, and gave himself permission to enjoy the closeness, whatever it meant, at least for the time being. It didn't really hurt, and maybe…just, maybe it wasn't as complicated as he thought. Speeding down the road, through the jungle, sunlight streaming down through the trees, the warmth that clung to him…it was a different kind of simple, if he didn't think about it too hard. It was almost like old times, only without the sense of pressing urgency hanging over their heads.

This was Cloud Strife though, and over-thinking came as naturally to him as breathing. His heart pounded in his chest, and he didn't know what to make of it. That feeling didn't spring out of nowhere. It certainly didn't start that night in the forest, though it obviously kicked into high gear at that point. No, it ran much deeper than that, and deep down, Cloud knew it. At some point, he was going to have to confront it, but that was a scary proposition. It meant having to say goodbye to "simple" again. It meant incredulous stares from Tifa and the others, it meant having to explain that no, this wasn't the first time. It meant having to explain that there had been another, and that other hadn't always been that soulless monster with the demonic eyes that tried to take away everything he held dear.

That is, it meant all that if it wasn't just in Cloud's head. An arm clinging to him on the back of a motorcycle didn't mean anything. Neither did swooping down and saving him—any of his friends would have done that, had they been there. Maybe not in such a dramatic way, but he would have been rescued. Cid, Barret, Tifa, any of them would have. They always had each other's backs; it's just how it was.

It wasn't Cid, or Barret, or Tifa, however. It was Vincent Valentine. Now that he really thought about it, it had always been Vincent. Whenever he needed him, Vincent seemed to be there as a silent rock of strength and support. Always watching, waiting in the shadows, ever since Cloud found him in that godsforsaken creepy old mansion.

Out of all his friends, if there was one single person Cloud could rely on to consistently bail his ass out of trouble, it was Vincent Valentine.

Cloud wanted him there, too. During the Meteor Crisis, Vincent never left his side from Nibelheim all the way to the Crater, except the time Tifa sent them all away in Mideel, and he himself sent him away before the final battle. It was a sound tactical decision, Cloud thought to himself at the time. He was an ex-Turk, the best freaking shot he'd ever seen, and a valuable asset in combat despite the unpredictability of his monster forms. It would have been stupid not to constantly have him around. That was all. If there was anything else, it was just the Jenova inside him playing games with his head again—after all, Vincent had deduced almost immediately that he'd been injected with her cells, too. It was Reunion and nothing more that kept Vincent near him.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd eventually believe it.


	3. Calm After the Storm

The hours rolled by in silence, the sun growing lower in the sky. However, as they neared Costa Del Sol, Cloud grew puzzled. The wind picked up considerably, snapping Vincent's cape sharply behind them, and even more strangely, there was vehicle after vehicle pouring out of the town the other way. In the year and a half or so he'd been traveling this route, he'd never seen so much traffic.

They rode into the beachfront town to find it nearly deserted. Windows were boarded up and covered in duct tape, tarp covering the boats, and all the shops were closed except the bar and the inn. When they reached the port, a harried-looking young woman with a clipboard, wearing a WRO uniform hurried over and gestured for them to stop. Cloud came to a halt and rested his tired feet on the pavement. It was then that he noticed there wasn't a single boat in the marina.

"Whoa, wait a minute! Didn't you hear?" the WRO official asked, giving the pair an odd look.

"Hear what?" Cloud blinked.

"There's a tropical storm warning in effect for this area," she replied with a blink.

"That explains the mass exodus," Vincent mused with a chuckle.

"Look, we're just trying to get to Edge. What's going on with the ferry?" Cloud asked. She blinked again.

"The Junon ferry went out of service hours ago, it's far too dangerous out on the water for it to run."

Cloud swore under his breath. The hell was he supposed to do now?

"The storm's projected to hit landfall in a few hours, you still have time to head to Corel—"

"We don't have enough fuel for that," Cloud interjected, glancing down in irritation at the digital display. He was counting on filling up in Junon, since the station here was a still a little too sporadic with its gas supply. He supposed that was the price he paid for not putting a mako tank in.

"Oh. Well, you're in a pickle, aren't you?" She frowned. "They're all out of fuel at the Solmart."

Of course, Cloud snickered to himself. Great, now they were stuck here.

"Is the inn filled to capacity?" Vincent asked. The official shook her head.

"The tourists have pretty much cleared out, you'll get a room no trouble." She gave them a perky, reassuring smile. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much. There's still a good chance the storm could stay at sea, that's why the evacuation was only voluntary. Anyway, I'd better get going. The bar's having a storm party, drinks on the house, and I'm not technically on duty right now. Be safe!" With that, she scribbled on her clipboard and headed off. Cloud shook his head, more annoyed with himself than anything else, and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to his friend. "It was stupid of me not to check the weather reports, considering the time of year."

"It wasn't your fault, and there's no use fretting now," Vincent said with a shrug. "Finding shelter is our paramount concern now. Let's go to the inn."

Cloud nodded, and smiled in spite of himself. The voice of reason strikes again, he thought with a chuckle. He parked Fenrir in a nearby garage, taking out a couple of blades for good measure, and hoped to every god and the Planet nothing would happen to that bike as he and Vincent walked back into town.

Just as the way too perky WRO girl told them, the inn was deserted, and the tiny handful of guests still staying there were surely off getting drunk. They had a quick exchange with the night clerk at the front desk, and Vincent decided to take a walk while he still could, leaving Cloud alone in the room with his thoughts.

Cloud was bone weary, and irritated with himself for making such a stupid miscalculation, and really just wanting to shower and go to bed. He wasn't terribly concerned about the storm itself. However, after all he'd been through, he thought being done in by a fucking tropical storm of all things would be funny in a twisted sort of way.

He stripped and got in the shower, the hot water washing over him giving him an immense feeling of relief. Cloud knew he should probably call Tifa, but he had too much on his mind, and honestly didn't feel like dealing with her nagging. Of course, that just meant he'd get chewed out worse later, but he couldn't bring himself to care just then.

After thoroughly scrubbing off the grit of the road, Cloud closed his eyes and rested his brow on the cool tile. Perhaps all the brooding on the way from Cosmo was what triggered it, but unbidden, his mind turned once again to the question that had been plaguing him for two years. Why did Vincent come back to the Northern Crater all that time ago, before they killed Sephiroth? Out of the whole group, he had the least reason to. He'd gotten his revenge on Hojo, he'd seen Lucrecia one last time even it was just a specter of the woman he once loved. Cloud remembered how he almost seemed hurt by the assumption he wouldn't come back, and thus never really asked him why. That look he gave Cloud back then was…painful. Was that way he stayed away now? No, it couldn't be something that trivial. It didn't keep him from saving him from Kadaj's gang.

The water grew cold, and that was Cloud's cue to get out. He toweled off and got dressed again, then stepped back into the bedroom. He jumped when he saw Vincent sitting on the far bed, casually reading a newspaper. Once a Turk, always a Turk, Cloud thought to himself with a snicker. Bastards were worse than ninjas.

"I thought you were going for a walk," Cloud chuckled.

"I did," Vincent replied. "I got—"

The wind howled in mid-sentence, and the room went pitch black.

"—a paper I can't read now," he sighed. Cloud frowned. It was just one of those days, it seemed. Well, there had to be candles or something around, all he had to do was go to the front desk and ask. He started for what he thought was the door, and tripped over something pointy. He expected to hit the floor, but stopped in mid flight.

"Maybe you should let me handle it," Vincent's hushed voice sounded deeply amused, and very near. Cloud realized the taller man must have caught him, and he felt warm all over again. Silently cursing himself, Cloud stood up in embarrassment.

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

"My eyes are far better accustomed to darkness than yours," Vincent insisted, and with a cold rush of air, Cloud suddenly found himself sitting alone on the bed. He rolled his eyes and swore under his breath. He was so infuriating sometimes, treating him like a child. Gods, he was just like—

It was an epiphany. Everything made sense to him, now: the almost instant rapport between them, the dull ache when he left, the paradox of comfort and unease he felt around him. Those jumbled mess of feelings came flooding back when he saw him again, in the forest, when all he did was touch his goddamn arm. Cloud almost wanted to laugh at his own stubborn stupidity. He couldn't deny it any longer; it simply wouldn't let him.

That, however, didn't make it right. Cloud sighed, and wished more than anything the feeling would just go away. He was finally at peace, he couldn't—

The familiar scent of roses filled the air, and he felt her voice in his mind again.

"_Now you're just being silly. You loved me, and I'm not anything like Sephiroth."_

"_I know, but—"_

"_No buts! What difference does it make _why_ you love him, anyway?"_

"_It's important, Aerith. I accept that I'll always care for Sephiroth, but it isn't fair to Vincent that I'm seeing him as some kind of substitute for the man I lost."_

" _Don't you see? The fact that you're so worried about it means you're not. Besides, you've had crushes on each other since we found him."_

"Aerith!"

"_Oh come on, you can't be that silly. You're pretty, Cloud, and you were the first person he saw in almost thirty years. Why do you think he avoids you so much? 'Cause he's just as stubborn as you are. Geez!"_

Cloud turned beet red and squirmed uncomfortably, crawling up to rest against the headboard. How the hell did always she do that?

"_But, what about Tifa?"_

"_Are you guys a couple?"_

"_No."_

"_Then so what? She didn't care when _we_ were together. And she'd probably be happy that someone else was there to look after you."_

"_I don't know, Aerith…"_

"_Gosh, you silly boys. You're both so much alike. Always worrying! Just talk to him, and you'll feel better, I promise."_

Soft, flickering light filled the room, and she went silent.

Vincent appeared out of the darkness, holding a small, old-fashioned oil lamp.

"It was the only thing he could spare," he explained, and placed it on the nightstand between the two beds. Cloud nodded, and Vincent turned to walk away. Despite his better judgment, he reached out and grabbed Vincent's claw.

"Don't go," he blurted out. Vincent raised an eyebrow at him.

"Afraid of the dark?"

"Maybe," Cloud said with a nervous laugh. Vincent turned the corner and sat beside him, languishing half-covered in shadow.

"You should be."

There was a long silence. Neither man was an enthusiastic conversationalist, and Cloud simply didn't know where to start. Somewhat surprisingly, Vincent made the choice for him.

"The calm before the storm," he mused rather poetically. "An interesting place to be, is it not?"

"'Interesting' isn't exactly the word I'd go for."

"Oh?"

Cloud stared at the spluttering flame dancing in the glass jar, watching the shadows play on the wall out of the corner of his eye.

"It's…kind of annoying, you know? This weird anticipation, where you know something's going to happen, but you don't have any control over it. You have no idea when or how, all you can do is sit back and watch. I hate it."

"It can be discomforting," Vincent agreed. "However, one should make the best of it. There is always something that can be done, no matter how insignificant it may seem in the greater scheme of things."

"Like what?"

"Like shining a light in the darkness." Cloud saw the distorted shadow of a claw flicker on the wall, as Vincent gestured at the lamp. Gods, everything was philosophy with him, Cloud thought to himself with a smile. Like a gothic version of those old monks in bad Wutaian kung fu movies, the sort that made their students stand under a waterfall for hours on end.

"What if you can't find a light?"

"There's always a light, Cloud. Some are easy to find, others hidden away so deep they seem nigh impossible to reach. But there is always a light."

Cloud turned his head and saw Vincent staring at him, crimson eyes the color of blood in the dim light. Otherworldly and beautiful, and they couldn't bear the look of his own. Vincent suddenly looked away, his pale visage haunted by something Cloud couldn't understand. It couldn't end like this. The still, small voice within—whether it was Aerith or his own intuition, it didn't matter—told him that the storm was no threat, that everything would be fine. Still, he couldn't leave it like this, regardless of what happened. He had to know.

"Why did you come back?"

"What?"

"Back then. When I told everyone to find their reason to fight. You never told me why you came back."

"You never asked," Vincent shrugged.

"I'm asking now."

Vincent paused, and began to speak, but shook his head.

"Why does it matter?"

Cloud grunted, and wondered if Aerith got this annoyed with him. He noticed the sound of raindrops pelting the planks of wood that boarded up the window, and a faint rumbling of thunder.

"It just is, okay? What was your reason for fighting?"

Vincent looked up at him, and his eyes suddenly seemed like they were on fire.

"You."

"What?"

"I could not let you walk alone into that dark, forbidding unknown. I knew the others would likely come back, and that you had Tifa there with you. However, nothing in this life is certain; we of all people know that. I was the only variable I could control. Thus, I returned."

"Loyalty?"

"A debt outstanding. Because of you I was able to face the demons of my past. You were there with me. It was the least I could do to return the favor."

Cloud sighed. That's what it always came down to with Vincent, debt and obligation, and nothing more. Why did he even ask? Of course that was the answer he'd give, that's just how he was. Cloud was suddenly, irrationally angry.

"And why did you stay away after that? Debt paid, that's it?"

"Cloud, I'm afraid I don't understand—"

Cloud pulled Cerberus off the nightstand and held it up.

"You got this from Cid. Nanaki says you've been in Cosmo a bunch of times. Barret's seen you. Reeve said he gave you a WRO badge, and you got one of Tifa's ribbons for Aerith. You've seen every last fucking one of us multiple times since then, except me. Am I somehow different from everyone else?"

Vincent leaned across the bed, and closed his hand around Cloud's, grasping the gun.

"Yes," Vincent answered, his voice scarcely above a whisper. He pulled the gun from Cloud's hand and put it back on the nightstand.

"How?" Cloud demanded, but found himself faltering as Vincent shifted his weight, resting against the headboard beside him, and stared down at him. Gods, those stupid, pretty red eyes that stole the anger from him before he could even get it out.

"I…" Then, it was Vincent's turn to falter, and he lowered his head, locks of long black hair draping his face like a curtain. "The fight is over. Sephiroth is no more. You have no more need for me, and it is best for us both if…"

"What the fuck are you on about, Vincent?" Cloud's anger came roaring back. "_Of course I need you!"_ he cried.

There was a great boom of thunder outside, so tremendous it shook the very room, almost as if to emphasize his point. Cloud scarcely noticed it, however. All he was focused on was Vincent's abject, senseless stupidity.

"You saved my life!" he raged. "Kadaj would have fucking killed me if you hadn't shown up!"

"And if another threat shows itself, I will be there to fight alongside you. But, Cloud, please believe me, it would be better if you simply forgot about me," Vincent stubbornly insisted. "I'm dangerous."

"For fuck's sake, you're not dangerous and if you were I don't care!" Cloud screamed in frustration. "Gods, you sound just like…" he stopped himself before he went too far, but Vincent's eyes narrowed on him in a shrewd gaze.

"Sephiroth?" Vincent finished the sentence for him.

"But—how—" he spluttered.

"I'd held suspicions from our very first conversation in the mansion," Vincent began. "However, in the North Cave, when you gave him the Black Materia…that is when I knew. The way you looked at him was not the way one would look at one's greatest foe. You looked upon him as an old lover would, one who longed to fall into his arms. Your very soul ached for Sephiroth to love you again, and in that single terrible moment, it was written all over your face."

Cloud was suddenly left speechless, and he stared lamely at Vincent. He never told anyone about his relationship with Sephiroth, except Aerith. None of them would have understood. However, Vincent knew. All this time, he'd known, and never said a word to the others. There was a crash of lightning, and thunder rolled once more outside. They sat in silence for some time, punctuated here and there by nature's cacophony. Finally, his anger dissipated, Cloud broke it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked.

"It was not my place," Vincent answered simply. "You had your reasons for not telling us, and I respected that."

"Vincent, thanks. I really appreciate that, more than you know. But I still don't understand why you think you're dangerous to me, or why you think I don't need you."

Vincent raised his hand, as if he wanted to reach out to Cloud, but hesitated. He lowered his eyes, and started to push away, but this time Cloud wouldn't let him. The smaller man reached up and firmly held his friend's chin, forcing him to face him. Cloud gazed at him steadily, and the cool, collected façade of the ex-Turk shattered before his very eyes. Vincent was trembling, his crimson eyes haunted by fear and self-loathing.

"You have known such horror and suffering in your life. I would not add to it."

"You won't."

"I would let you go, as I let her go…"

"And sin again?"

Vincent's eyes grew wide, and Cloud could see the tears begin to form in them.

"I…I don't want to hurt you, Cloud." His voice was broken.

"You won't hurt me."

"If I lose myself, I will. The demons inside me don't care who you are, they don't care that I…" Vincent halted, too afraid to say the words that shone as plain as day in his eyes.

"Gods, you emotard, just shut up, I don't care."

Cloud closed his eyes and leaned up, pressing his lips against Vincent's. He felt him start to kiss back, but then he stiffened, and pushed the blond away.

"Stop it, I can't." Vincent was struggling to keep the tears away.

"Vincent…don't ever tell me that I don't need you," Cloud whispered, taking his tear-stricken face into both hands. "I need you."

"I said stop it!" Vincent growled, and pushed him away again, harder this time. Cloud slapped him dead across the face, and Vincent blinked, more stunned than physically hurt.

"_You_ stop it!" Cloud cried. "_Why_ are you doing this to yourself? All it's doing is hurting you!"

"I deserve it!"

"Bullshit!"

Vincent rushed to his feet, and moved to the door outside, but Cloud was ready for him. The smaller man stood firm, blocking his path, as immovable as Mt. Nibel.

"Get out of my way, Cloud," Vincent said, his tone a deadly quiet.

"Like hell I will."

"Don't do this."

"You first."

"Cloud—"

"No, Vincent. That night, in the Sleeping Forest, when we talking about sin and forgiveness…I was only half joking when I told you I'd try it and let you know."

"Well?"

"It works, but it begins and ends with you. No one can forgive you unless you make the choice to forgive yourself. Other people can tell you that you were blameless, that it wasn't your fault…and not one bit of it makes a difference until you try to see it for yourself."

"Cloud…I apologize." Vincent sighed, and Cloud wrapped his arms around his neck, resting his head on his shoulder.

"I'm not Lucrecia, and you're not Sephiroth. I'm Cloud Strife, and you're Vincent Valentine. The only possible way we could repeat our past mistakes is by forgetting that they're just that, in the past."

Vincent wrapped his arms around Cloud tentatively, taking great care that he didn't hurt him with his claw.

"I won't break," Cloud chuckled softly. There was a slight breeze as Vincent pulled him close, enveloping him in his cape. It was that wonderful sensation of warmth and security from that night, the one that he'd dreamed about ever since.

"I'm too old for you," Vincent said softly as he held him.

"Technically, you're only six years older. The time you spent asleep doesn't count."

"You aren't the slightest bit afraid of me?"

"I killed Sephiroth twice. I think I can take an old, sorta-dead Turk."

Vincent shook with silent laughter and pressed Cloud tighter against him, until he could feel his slow, steady heartbeat.

"I'm not dead, Cloud. Not anymore." With that, he leaned down and kissed him, softly at first, and then it blossomed into something fiercely intense. Cloud was powerless to do anything but simply melt into it; it was like nothing he ever felt. He was profoundly disappointed when it stopped.

"I love you, emotard."

"Takes one to know—"

Cloud reached up and kissed him again, tangling his fingers in Vincent's hair. He suddenly didn't feel much like talking. Defeated, Vincent returned the kiss, and they stood there for some time simply drinking in the comfort of one another's company.

"I do love you, Vincent," Cloud said in all seriousness.

"I should hope so. Else I've made a terrible fool of myself for no apparent reason." Vincent kissed the top of his head. "I love you as well, Cloud."

"Doesn't forgiveness feel good?" Cloud smiled.

"I suppose I could get used to it."

Cloud looked up at him, and for the first time he could ever remember, Vincent Valentine was smiling, too.


End file.
